


The Respite

by Lillehafrue



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-24
Updated: 2013-01-24
Packaged: 2017-11-26 16:38:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/652290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lillehafrue/pseuds/Lillehafrue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a rough hunt, Sam and Dean stop at a roadside bar and find help in an unexpected place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Respite

I watched as the two men entered the bar. The shorter of the two stopped and surveyed the area, then nodded and stepped forward. He beckoned to the taller one and they made their way over to a table in the back. I finished serving beer to the table of four in front, then headed in their direction.

"Hey there. What can I get you guys?"

The shorter one sent me a roughish grin. "Well, what are you offering?"

The taller merely rolled his eyes. "Dean," he said wearily.

"A beer, whatever's on tap," the one called Dean said, still grinning.

"All we have is Bud and Michelob," I told them.

"Bud." Dean turned to the other. "Sammy?"

He didn't look up from the laptop he had opened in front of him. "A soda, Coke, please."

"Got it. Be right back." I headed back to the bar, stopping to take a couple more orders along the way. It was nearly ten minutes later before I got back to their table.

"I'm not going back to the hotel, Dean. I'm fine."

"Sam, look—"

I stepped up to them and placed their drinks down. "Here you go, one Bud, one Coke."

Dean flashed another smile at me. "Thanks..."

"Rae. Can I get you guys anything else?"

"We're all set." Dean took a sip of his beer and nodded to me. "So, Rae, what's a nice girl like you doing working in a place like this?"

I shrugged. I got that question all the time. "Family business. Holler if you need anything." I made my way back to the bar, taking a few empties with me. I kept a weather eye on Dean and his buddy, who appeared to be arguing about something.

Dean finally shoved his chair away and marched over towards the pool table. A few minutes later, he was in the middle of a game, laughing and hooting with the rest of the rednecks that frequented this place. Glancing over at the table, I saw his friend still bent over the laptop, his soda untouched. I headed over there.

"Hey, Coke not cold enough?" I asked. "Whoa, what happened to you?"

He had looked up from his computer, his green eyes darting around anxiously. Well, one green eye anyway. The other was swollen nearly shut, the bruising hidden under his long bangs.

He shook free from my grip. "It's nothing."

I shrugged. "Whatever you say. Hey, while I'm here, wanna pass me that glass? I'll get it out of your way."

He leaned over, reaching for Dean's empty beer glass, then gasped in pain, dropping the glass on the floor where it shattered. "Sorry, let me help." He bent over at the same time I did, both of us bumping heads. He grinned half-heartedly. "Sorry again."

"No problem. Let me get this; it happens all the time." I started picking up the larger pieces of glass. He handed me another then straightened up, again wincing, his right hand clutching at his chest. I eyed him critically. "You OK?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Sure you are," I muttered as I walked away. When I returned with a broom and dustpan a few minutes later, he was slumped down, one hand holding his head. He didn't speak as I swept up and I sighed. "Look, come with me."

His head snapped up. "What? Where?"

"Just come with me." I made my way back towards the bar, dumping the broken glass in the trash on the way by. He followed, slowly, but he came. "Dave?" I called out to the bartender. "I need a few minutes out back."

"OK, take your time; it's not that busy tonight."

"Thanks." I turned to Dean's friend. "This way." I led him through a door at the back of the bar, heading down the hall. I stopped and opened a door at the far end and switching on the light, waited for him to follow me.

He paused in the doorway, looking around. "Do you live here?"

I shook my head. "Not anymore. I have an apartment across town. This is my brother's place. He's out front, behind the bar." I walked over to the cupboard and rummaged around. "Sit." Finding what I was looking for, I turned back around. He was still standing in the doorway. "I said sit. I can't patch you up standing there." I motioned to the table and chairs.

He sat down, wincing again. "I told you, it's nothing."

"Let me be the judge of that," I said, laying the medical kit on the table and opening it. "Take off your jacket and shirt. I can't tell anything under all those layers."

A touch of anger came into his expression. "Look, I don't even know who you are. Just let me get back out there and grab my brother and I'll leave."

"Brother, huh?" I pushed him back into the chair. "Maybe I should go get him myself." I matched his angry glare until he sighed.

"I give up." He shrugged out of his jacket and shirt.

I winced myself at the sight of his chest. The left side was one mass of black and blue. His back was also bruised and there were tiny cuts and scratches everywhere. There was a deep cut oozing blood on his upper arm. Kneeling down, I carefully probed his ribs. "What happened to you?"

"Nothing."

"You don't get bruising like this over nothing." He winced as I hit a particularly tender spot. I frowned. "Looks like you have at least two cracked ribs. I don't think they're broken, but you'd need an x-ray to tell for sure." I turned my attention to the cut on his arm. "This needs to be stitched."

Now he looked at me in surprise. "How do you know all this?"

I reached for some gauze and the alcohol. "I used to be a med student."

"Used to be?"

"My dad died and I had to quit school to help my mom run this place."

"I see." He grew quiet a moment. "I used to be a law student."

"Used to be?" I echoed his words.

"My family needed me, too."

"So you left school?"

He nodded. "Sometimes...sometimes you don't realize how important your family is until you don't have them anymore," he said quietly.

"No, you don't." I sensed he wanted to say more, but he grew still as I continued cleaning the cut. "So, you have a name?" I asked, changing the subject.

"Sam."

"Hi there, Sam. I'm Rae." I grinned at him, causing him to smile back. Then my smile faded. "I was serious. This needs stitches. Are you going to tell me what happened?"

He sighed. "I fell down a flight of stairs."

I arched an eyebrow at that. You didn't get injuries like this just from falling down stairs. But no further explanation came. "When?"

"Yesterday."

I put down the gauze and looked in the kit again, finally finding needle and suture thread. "Usually you don't stitch a wound that old, but this one's pretty deep and still bleeding."

"Yeah, I kinda figured it would need something when I checked it this morning." He looked up at me. "Don't worry about it. I'll go get Dean."

He started to get up but I pushed him back down. "Med student, remember? I'll patch you up without leaving much of a scar." I smiled. "Not that you'd notice one more."

He chuckled softly. "That's true."

I poked around the med-kit. "Damn. I don't have anything to numb the area. Stay here." Before he could reply, I hurried out front to the bar. "Dave, I need a bottle of whiskey. The good stuff."

My brother didn't question me, just handed me an almost full bottle of Jameson's. "Good luck."

"Thanks." I went back to the apartment, half expecting Sam to have left, but he was still sitting where I left him. "Here. Drink this." I handed him the bottle and shrugged. "Best I can do."

He nodded and took a slug straight from the bottle. While I waited for the alcohol to kick in, I took a look at his eye. "Any impaired vision?"

"No. Just hurts like hell."

"I'll bet." I got an ice pack from the freezer and handed it to him. I bent to check his ribs again. "Nice tat, by the way."

He took another swig then glanced down. "Thanks." We sat in silence for a few minutes before Sam nodded. "I think I'm all set if you want to get started."

"OK." I swabbed the area one more time with alcohol and taking a deep breath, started in on his arm.

I had to give the guy credit, other than a wince and his fists tightening, Sam didn't move as I began to stitch. "So, fell down the steps?" I asked when the silence had gone on too long.

"Yeah." He took another drink. "Well, that was part of it anyway. I got thrown into a mirror first, hence the cuts."

I stopped and looked down at him. "Sam. Did your brother do this to you?"

He looked at me blankly for a moment, then shook his head. "Dean? No, no way. He was pissed that it came after me instead of him."

"It?"

"Long story."

"We're not going anywhere."

He smiled. "Occupational hazard. Got hurt on the job."

"Helluva job you got then." I eyed the numerous scars on his body. "If you get banged up like this regularly, I hope it at least has good perks."

"Yeah, meeting waitresses who stitch me up is just one of them." We both laughed.

"So what is this job of yours and your brother's?"

Sam grew still. "Family business." The silence fell again and I decided not to press.

"There, all set. You still OK?"

"Yeah, a little dizzy, but that could be from the whiskey." He closed his eyes and rested his head on his good hand.

I was reaching for the scissors to tie off when the door opened and we both looked up in surprise.

"Hey, Sammy? The guy out front told me you were in here." Dean paused, a wolfish grin on his face as he took in his shirtless brother and me standing over him, scissors in hand. His expression hardened. "Get away from him," he snapped. Faster than I believed possible, he had moved forward, pulling Sam out of the chair and placing himself between us.

"Dean...wait..." Sam swayed drunkenly.

He caught his brother before he fell, his glance going to the medical kit on the table. "What the hell did you do to him?" he growled.

I held my hands up. "Nothing. He needed that arm stitched up. That's all I did."

"What?" He turned his puzzled glance on his brother. "Dammit, Sam! You said you were fine!"

"Dean, she's a doc...stitched up the arm..." Sam stumbled again.

Pushing past Dean, I grabbed Sam and eased him into the chair. "Easy, tiger." I glanced up at Dean, who was still glaring. "Look, I had nothing to numb him with." I nodded at the whiskey bottle.

Dean glanced over at it and to my surprise broke out in a wide grin. "Sammy, dude, you know you can't handle this stuff. Stick to your wine coolers."

"Jerk."

"Bitch." There was no denying the affection in his tone as Dean sat down in the other chair and helped himself to what was left of the bottle. "So, you're a doctor? Interesting office," he commented, eyeing the dingy kitchen.

"Former med student," I snapped back, grabbing some gauze and taping it over Sam's cut. "There, that should do it. Keep it clean and change the dressing once a day. You should be able to pull those out in ten days or so." I walked over and put the kit back in the cupboard. I glanced at my watch. "I have to get back to work. Stay here until he can walk." I started out the door.

"Rae," I turned at the sound of Dean's voice. "Thanks." His eyes bored into mine, saying much more than words could.

Nodding I made my way back to the bar. "Everything all right?" Dave asked me.

"Yeah, just peachy." I grabbed a rag and a tray and headed over to clean tables. Ten minutes later, Dean and Sam appeared. Sam was leaning heavily on his brother, his eyes glassy. Dean stopped and handed something to Dave, then turned and nodded in my direction. A moment later, they were out the door.

I walked over to the bar. "What'd he say to you?"

"Nothing much. Just told me to give you this." Dave handed me a folded bill. I looked down and gasped in surprise. "You wanna tell me what you did back there to warrant those guys leaving you a hundred dollar tip?"

I grinned. "Wouldn't you like to know."

Dave laughed and nodded at the pool gang. "Jerry and his gang want refills."

"I'm on it." I grabbed a pitcher of beer and headed over to the pool tables. A movement outside caught my eye and I paused to watch the black muscle car peel off down the road. Shaking my head, I poured the beer, my thoughts on Sam and Dean and hoping wherever they were headed, they'd go there together.

FINIS


End file.
